Following is an initial briefing on the CIHS conference of 2 May in the year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred , Ninety and Eight spotlighting the Sp00ky NIDS Scientist and Top Seekrit UFO Aviarian, the mysterious Dr. John Alexander.
Given a block of approximately 5 1/2 hours time to lecture, Dr. Alexander decided to initiate the proceedings by determining the topics which the attendees themselves wished to have covered. As it turned out, the questions indicated a general lack of any substantive awareness of the current state of PSI research, anomalous aerial phenomena (i.e. "UFOs") and military/intelligence involvement in these fields. This served to steer the conference to a "least common denominator PSI-101" level. And sadly, what we perceived to be some of the weightier matters -- such as his interspecies dolphin communication work with Scott Jones, Scientology's inextricable involvement with the modern renaissance of ancient and enduring shamanism (termed "remote viewing" by the latter-day Hubbardian disciples who so permeated the seminal SRI program and were forced to cloak their psychism in culturally-appropriate verbosity in order to secure funding from those who worship strictly at the culturally-appropriate altars of Modern Scientism), and lastly the moral and ethical implications of military/intelligence PSI work in terms of opening a Pandora's box similar to that of Oppenheimer's hideous work which caused him to lament after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, "In a very profound sense and in a way that cannot be lightly dismissed, we scientists have sinned." -- were never addressed before the clock struck midnight and Dr. Alexander was forced to magically morph from the kindly gentlemen who stood before us inviting us all to freely observe his life's work back into the Frankensteinian Mad Scientist Sp00k so many generally perceive him to be.
Starting the conference with a delightfully irreverent quote by Steve Aftergood [FAS] from the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, Oct. 1994, "He [Dr. Alexander] would make a splendid character in a science fiction novel. But he probably shouldn't be spending taxpayer money without adult supervision" he, in so doing, reminded us all that the ability to laugh at oneself is a key survival art never to be forgotten in this bizarre and often vicious field so rife with sibling rivalry and internecine feeding frenzies.
Next, promising to be as open and honest as his Sacred Oaths would permit, he pulled out of his hat the apparently customary intro which states essentially that despite the fact countless individuals perceive The Pentagon to be a living and often diabolical entity ("the Pentagon remarked today that...," etc.) and despite the fact that a growing body of U.S. citizens perceive the Evil Guvmint to be deliberately hiding The Truth About Roswell, the good news is that the government doesn't really know much of anything about UFOs, whereas the bad news is that the government doesn't really know much of anything about UFOs.
Clear as mud, that. ;-)
So, from this vantage point, he went on to give a generic, fairly sanitised presentation on remote viewing, NIDS, non-lethal weaponry and, of course, Martians; the details of which may be found on the NIDS website or any of dozens of other sites which spotlight either Dr. Alexander or the remainder of the Bigelow Bunch -- we see no particular reason to reiterate them here.
One particularly fascinating portion of the lecture was devoted to Cleve Backster's intriguing work involving the apparent connectedness of certain bodily fluids recently ejaculated yet still in apparent mysterious contact with the host organism.
Some years back, it appears, Dr. Alexander was asked to expectorate into a Scientific Test Tube which was then run through a centrifuge to isolate the lycocytes thereof. These were, in turn, placed in a different Scientific Test Tube and hypersensitive electrodes placed into the resultant extract, the output being monitored by a specially-designed hypersensitive EEG or some such.
Interestingly enough, some time later during that day as John was giving a presentation in a separate office some 300 feet away and separated from the elixir by two solid brick walls, as he found himself under stress, his disembodied substance was reacting violently! So pronounced was the effect, in fact, that the graph he presented (the actual 20-or-so-foot long seismograph-like printout he displayed) showed spikes so massive as to literally max out to both the upper and lower ceilings the equipment was capable of recording.
Unable to explain these results from within the boundaries of established Science, the bizarre event -- which offers clear proof of what mystics and alchemists have long known -- remains to this day a perplexing enigma.
It was about this point in the presentation that the sound system he was employing to throw his voice began reacting to the stimulus with obnoxious feedback. "It's the Guvmint!" we cried aloud, sounding the alarm and thereby foiling the clever attempt at obfuscation via some unseen microwave mindcontrol satellite which no doubt hovered directly above us; bombarding our Dear Colonel with a hideous barrage of what the eminent UFOlogical scholar Dr. Helmut Borodine of the Brotherhood of Galactic Science termed "negatrons."
There was also a compelling video of ace viewer Joe McMoneagle wherein he performed a remarkably accurate demonstration of remote viewing before a TV camera. The show's producer -- though initially quite skeptical -- was absolutely astounded and after the editors removed the portion in which he exclaimed "Holy shit!," the remaining video was still quite compelling indeed. This, then, provided a perfect segue for the group to attempt a Scientific Remote Viewing Experiment ourselves!
At this point, the colonel tasked Brother Blue with randomly selecting a manila envelope from an array of five; each containing a unique yet unknown photograph -- a double-blind experiment, this -- and place it on display for all to psee (PSI + sight = psight). We all then closed our eyes and listened to New Age Music for approximately five minutes in an attempt to clear our minds and slip into theta in preparation for the test.
It was difficult to enter our required meditative state -- the ambient psychic noise was a bit overwhelming -- but eventually we began to latch our consciousness onto the mysterious manila envelope front and center.
And then we began to psee...
Slowly yet deliberately a huge warehouse of some sort came into view wherein workers were busily arc-welding the rusted hull of a large ocean-going vessel. The word "Titanic" entered our thoughtstream and we perceived it to be somehow archetypal -- a verbal sigil or "ideogram" as the SRI Scientologists might term the transmission. Panning back, as it were, we psaw the process being observed from an overhead office by a dubious-looking businessman from Hong Kong and a couple high-ranking military officers (one struck us as being a general) who, we psensed, were engaging in some sort of nefarious and illegal activity.
And then the envelope was opened.
In it was what appeared to be a magazine advertisement which pictured a half-open Swiss army knife standing up in an inverted vee and leaning against a bottle of Vodka.
But we were not fooled! For, you see, as we busied ourselves with remote viewing the contents of the envelope, The Penguin must have surreptitiously replaced the REAL envelope with an obvious fraud to discredit us and throw us off the track. He is a clever one, that crafty Penguin, and you must watch him like a hawk!
Later -- as time grew more scarce -- he touched lightly upon UFOs, cattle mutilations and the NIDS group of which he is apparently a key board member. Somewhat surprisingly he mentioned the source of NIDS funding (Las Vegas billionaire Bob Bigelow who has also been known to fill the trough on occasion for a good number of UFOlogists from Jacobs to Hopkins to Lindemann to Howe to Lazar, etc.; you get the idea) yet perhaps unfortunately neglected to address the larger question of WHY he chooses to finance this sort of thing or, for that matter, how on earth such a disparate group of individuals -- from such a surprisingly diverse array of intelligence orgs -- can manage to pull off something like this remarkably cross-cultural ad hoc group without sounding every alarm under the sun; John, Bruce, Hal and Kit all hailing from such radically different frequencies of the overall intelligence bandwidth.
And thus the conference concluded, again, a rather superficial treatment and perhaps overly sanitised, but this was what the majority of participants desired. Who were we to stand in the way of democracy -- the needs of the many, as always, outweigh the needs of the few.
It was not until afterwards, however, that we could lock in more seriously to our preferred modality as Professional UFOlogyologist (i.e. observer of the strange behaviours of UFOlogists).
Just then, a car came screeching into the parking lot and skidded to an abrupt halt right before us. Out jumped a UFOlogist, bubbling and bouncing about, full of vitality and purpose -- and braless with "high-beams" on full (how we miss the 60's!). "Did we miss him? Is he still here? I just found out about this a half hour ago!" she exclaimed, eyes darting about in search of her prey. Out jumped the driver, clad in Levis and a bright green T-shirt riddled with crop circle designs and sporting a bonafide New Age tetrahedronal-shaped crystal about his neck.
"Don't you just want to take that guy [Alexander], roll him up into a ball and drop-kick him?" she asked with fire in her eyes, mimicking the fine footwork of an NFL punter? "I just saw him for a second, and he really looked slimey!" chimed her colleague, with a tone of mild disgust tainting his words. "Yes, there were 4 or 5 police cars mysteriously patrolling my street just before I left!" remarked another, offering further indisputable proof that The Conspiracy simply did not want her to attend.
"But perhaps you have mistakenly dressed him in a Darth Vader outfit of your own design," I ventured, adding "I found nothing particularly sinister about his lecture."
"Well, that's because he NPL-ed [sic., we assume she was referring to John's alleged proficiency with neuro-linguistic programming -B:.B:.] you right off to sleep!" the instantaneous reply.
"Perhaps so," we replied, feigning agreement while trying desperately not to let a huge smile break out upon our amused face.
"Did he mention the Secret Working Group?" asked one of the latecomers? "He and Puthoff, have continued where Corso left off -- continuing to develop top secret reverse-engineered alien mindcontrol technologies!"
Now, here's where things got really interesting for, you see, one of the individuals did not at all believe in Corso's Martians -- thinking the entire UFO enigma to be nothing more than a cover for mundane guvmint black-ops mindcontrol projects, whereas the other bought the entire absurd Corso Martian scenario; hook, line and sinker.
"Surely you don't believe the Corso story?" I interjected, trying -- apparently without success -- to ground the conversation in a more realistic vein.
Yet their clash of fundamental basal paradigms was left by the wayside as they opted instead to nurse their own presuppositions at the expense of a more objective approach. "Yes, he DID mention the Secret Working Group!" replied the excited attendee, utterly ignoring my question. "And he DID back Corso's story!"
We looked to our friend and fellow journalist for confirmation, a mildly perplexed expression painting our face. "No," we both reasoned aloud, "he did not. What he said was that certain of Corso's previous non-UFO stories -- which were initially perceived as unbelievable -- later turned out to be true." We considered at this point mentioning we had heard from our friend in Virginia that though John perhaps may like Phil Corso as a friend and, after serious background investigation determined his credentials pretty much checked out, nevertheless finds much of the Day After Roswell saga to be essentially bullshit. Let's see ... ah, here it is: "John has mentioned the Corso issue to me several times and never in a favorable light. John is sometimes nebulous, but never dishonest."
Further, we considered pointing out the blatant irony which caused them to perceive the entire conference as being nothing but lies and guvmint disinformation, except, of course, for the part which appeared to bolster their own predeterminations. John, you see, apparently lied about everything except the small portion which corroborated their presuppositions. We can only hope at this point that The Conspiracy never finds out who leaked The Horrible Truth!
Alas, we inevitably remained silent on both accounts, reasoning within ourselves that in certain situations discretion can often be the better part of valour.
And so their conversation continued, building upon itself; ratcheting up in emotion as they fed each other's fires. Seeing a perfect opportunity to invoke the Sufi within -- to mirror back to them an absurd caricature of their already imbalanced perceptions -- we invoked our finest Spanish Inquisition voice and remarked vehemently, "He is Eeeeevil! He is a witch! We must BURN him!"
Yet at this point, John unexpectedly emerged from the main building -- no doubt he had "bugged" our conversation! -- with both his lovely wife Victoria and the Institute's director in tow. What could we possibly do at this point but walk up to him in full view of the enraged UFOlogists, shake his hand, thank him for giving such a fine briefing and then bestow upon him a warm B:.B:. hug, which he returned in friendship.
As he left, colonel Alexander offered one final tip -- a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eye -- in regards to his Top Seekrit Aviarian Identity, "Oh, and Blue," he remarked heading out to his car, "if you want a hint, I'm not Penguin..."
And so it goes!
To find out more about the CIHS:
Graduate School and Research Center
701 Garden View Court
Encinitas, California 92024
Phone: (760) 634-1771
Fax: (760) 634-1772
Website: http://www.cihs.edu http://www.cihs.edu
Kirby The Konspiracy Boy Says, "I NEED 2 KONFORM!!!"